The Thief and The Heir
by Mystical Ninja Unicorns
Summary: An Oblivion (I know old!) romance story. I've been playing it recently and I decided to write a romance with Martin. Sorry if he doesn't seem like Martin in the game, I haven't play it for a while and I haven't started the main quest! Reviews are nice!


**The Thief and The Heir**

Katrina walked into the burning city of Kavatch as the guards she aided now fought off remaining beasts.

"I wonder if there are any items still left from the burning…" She said to herself. "I'm going to find out." She smiled wickedly and left the guards to the killing as she looked in the burning buildings.

She was a thief from the Imperial City. She stole, she killed, and she lied to get what she wanted, and it was all for survival. She wasn't rich, in fact she could barely keep the hut she had now in the Imperial City. She liked being a thief, with her tight black pants, leather boots, and leather corset armor that she made herself. Her daggers slung on her waist and her bow in hand. Katrina had no family and liked it that way. She didn't like connections, she didn't like people. She was just here to save Martin and get him to Jauffre, and be on her way. She wasn't a hero, and she wasn't going to start being one. If she had it her way, she would have slipped past the oblivion gate and into the city, but she knew she might have died if she did.

She then stumbled into a room with a chest in the center. "All right!" She smiled and opened it. There was some clothes, a white tank top with thick straps, black ripped up pants, a pair of expensive looking slippers, a leather bag, and a copper necklace with a red gem in the center. It looked cheap, but she could sell the necklace and the slippers, and keep the clothing. She stuffed them in the small bag and put it inside her backpack, which held a spare, small dagger, some lockpicks, a blanket, a slice of yellow cheese, an apple, and a piece of bread beginning to mold a bit.

She slipped back on her backpack, and jumped to the next house. She landed on the roof, which then caved in. She let a shout of surprise slip, and crashed to the floor. She landed on her feet, she was use to falling, but the floor beneath her wasn't far behind. She then noticed a bag of gold and a silver necklace with a diamond on a dresser, across from some burning flames. She jumped over the flames, singeing her pants and almost burning her arms. She landed on, crashing against the dresser, but very much alive. She snatched the two things and jumped back.

She quickly put the stuff in her bag and got ready to jump to the hole she made when she crashed through, and pull herself up. She jumped, but then the floor beneath her crashed below her and she grabbed the edge of the roof, but it wasn't a good grip. She was holding onto pieces of hay that matted the roof, and she began to slip. Finally her grasp gave up and she fell, along with the roof on top of her.

She hit her head, and the breathe of hers was knocked out of her, but the hole she made, was now right over her head. She couldn't keep consciousness for long, for her head throbbed. Her arms and legs burned with nearby flames.

"No…no" Katrina croaked, trying to stay awake. But finally her vision went dark…

XXX

She woke up the peaceful humming of a chapel. Warm hands tended her wounds. She opened her eyes and quickly sat up, and began to push herself away in panic. He vision cleared to a man, with blue robes and tannish skin. Is hair a dark color.

"It's alright; I was simply tending your wounds."

Katrina looked down at her half naked, bleeding, burning body. She had a nasty gash on her stomach but not deep enough to hit any organs, and burns all along her right arm, shoulder and back. She didn't even remember feeling that.

"I can do it myself." She sneered, untrusting of the stranger. His eyebrows furrowed, but he simply placed up his hands up in defeat.

She snatched the salve he was using and rubbed along her arm, occasionally looking through her eyelashes at the watching stranger.

"What happened?" He finally asked.

"I was looting houses." Katrina admitted, not caring who knew. "When one collapsed…"

"Looting houses?" He had a judging look in his eyes.

"Yes, I was trying to get a meal for the night." She sneered. "Where is my stuff?"

He pointed to a neatly stacked pile of her stuff, leaning against a small alter. They were in a dark corner of the chapel. She was sitting on a sheet that was covered in her blood. "I found you while the guards were looking for you, they claimed you closed an oblivion gate, that hardly seems worth, 'looting house'."

Katrina looked away, rubbing more salve on her burns. "You got any needles and cat gut?" She asked.

He nodded, opening a small box and pulling out a needle and the tiny string of cat gut. He placed the string through the eye of the needle and handed to her, since he was just about to it himself. She looked down at the gash.

"Got any alcohol?" She asked.

He shook his head then looked around. He spotted a wine bottle on a blanket next to a loaf of bread and cheese. He snatched the bottle, apologized to the people he was taking it from and promised to bring it back, then gave it to her.

She snatched it and drank half the bottle in three gulps then returned it. Finally, she clenched her teeth and began to sew her wounds together. A couple of times she let of a cry of pain, but kept going.

About half way she had to stop and rest. She looked down at her sloppy work. "I'm not very good at this…" She mentally kicked herself.

"Here, may I?" He held out his hand and she reluctantly handed it over.

He then began to sew the wounds, gently, hurting a little less than when she was doing it, but it still hurt. She gasped and sweated as the searing pain began but never once fainted, her body was use to the pain. She remembered when she once got beaten to a pulp in Skingrad when she use to steal there, but was thrown out.

"There." He said, finishing.

She let out a breath and he grabbed some ripped pieces of cloth. He dipped one in a bowl of water and cleaned up excess blood. "What were you actually doing here? What's important enough for you to close a gate just to get to the city?"

"I'm looking for a Martin; do you know who he is?"

"Martin, oh I know him, in fact I am him." He looked up through his lashed and held out the cloth. She didn't do anything but stare at him.

"You're Martin?" She asked, then pulsed her lips. She eyed his face closer, taking in the laugh lines and blue eyes. "I wasn't expecting that…"

He smiled and she sat up, letting him wrap her wounds.

"Listen, Martin, I was sent by Jauffre, in Weynon Prior, I was sent to get you. To take you to him. You see you're the emperor's son, and-"

"How hard did you hit your head?" He asked, his brows furrowing.

"I'm not… crazy!" She nearly shouted. "I was sent to take you to Jauffre."

Martin stood there, a serious, intimidating face on. "Why should I believe you?"

Katrina growled under her breathe then looked up at him. "Your… just going to have to trust me… Beside you're in… danger." Katrina seemed to struggle with each word. She never asked anyone to trust her, just to do what she said.

He sighed. "Fine."

Katrina nodded then went to get up. She groaned with as she did it, but was able. She picked up her shirt which was burned on the right side. She scowled. "Damn." She ripped the shirt in half and grabbed the white tank top with the thick straps. She tried it on, it fit her muscular and slim body like a second skin and showed every curve in her stomach. Of course, it showed an inch of her waist but she liked it, planning already on sewing leather to it to make it more protective. She grabbed her black pants and examined them. They were perfectly fine. She smiled and slipped them on. She slipped on her boots and belted her daggers lazily to her waist then looked around for her bow.

She frowned. "Where's my bow?"

"What bow?" Martin frowned with her.

"Damn." She scowled and continued looking through her things. She bruised her apple, squished her cheese and bread, and broke most of her lockpicks. She threw her broken lockpicks away and kept her food just in case, it may be damaged, but she's eaten worst. "Alright, are you ready?"

Martin nodded and they left Kavatch.

XXX

Katrina walked down the road as rain pour down on them. She was soaked to the bone and her white shirt wasn't helping. She had a light grey bra on, and it was thick enough not to show anything but still, it was humiliating. Her long, black hair hung in links and revealed her pointy ears.

She frowned, trying to remember which of her parents was a wood elf and which was an imperial. She shook it off, knowing that no matter what their both dead and useless to her. They died when she barely began to remember things, and left her to survive. At first, she hid in the house, rooming the empty halls, having no furniture for the other family members took everything of her parents, everything but her and her mother's silver necklace.

It was a simple silver chain, which Katrina hung keys or rings on, anything really. But that was her problem these days, when she was little no one wanted her, so she grew accustom to the loneliness, and embraced. She hated everyone for her fate, but didn't blame anyone. Just hate. A lot of hate.

Eventually one of her family members claimed the house, but again not her, and they kicked her out. She didn't know why, but her family members hated her, and she assumed it was because she was half blood. She was just trash trying to survive, and she brushed it off. She was use to it. No one would want her, no one would care.

Then she spotted it in the distance, a farm house, in the woods. She grabbed Martin's elbow and led him to it. He didn't fight, only went along with it. When she got there, she noticed that the sheep had broken the gate and were staying nearby.

She pounded on the door, no one answered. She grabbed the handle. "Locked." She then squatted so she was eye level with the lock and reached into her bag. She picked it in three seconds and kicked the door open with her foot casually.

"What are you doing? That's someone's home." Martin crossed his arms.

"It's abandon, either the owner left, or died, either way, I don't care." Katrina looked him up and down. "You can either stand out here in the rain, or inside the warm, nice building."

Martin sighed and entered.

The cottage was dusty with crates in the back, a table with two chairs and a bowl of fruit on it, and a double bed. The fireplace was dusty and cold.

Katrina dumped her bag on the ground and grabbed the wood by the fireplace. She was already shivering… and so was Martin, he soon realized. Katrina then summoned flames with her hand, and lit the wood without even thinking about.

"You're a mage?" Martin's eyebrows furrowed.

Katrina laughed. "I could, if I wanted to be, but no, I'm a thief." She took off her boots and weapons while talking.

"Why a thief?"

"Because it's the only thing I know how to be."

"That you know or that you want to be?" Martin asked, crossing his arms.

Katrina sighed and stood up, pulling her wet clothes off. "You might want to take you clothes off, or you'll get sick." She said, pulling off her pants and laying it on a crate, next to her white tank top.

He hesitated. Katrina smiled at this.

Finally he took off his robe to reveal a pair of breeches, a white shirt, and expensive looking boots, all damp but not soaking.

"Where'd you get the fancy clothes?"

"The chapel provided them to all the priests." Martin paused. "How you ever thought of going to a chapel?"

Katrina shook her head. "I'm not a good priestess, I don't believe in the gods, because if their real then they abandon me a long time ago."

"What makes you think that?" Martin frowned.

"Because when I was a child, I use to have a mother who prayed every day, claiming that everything is better if you leave your fate with the gods, and you know what happened?" Katrina burned with hatred. "She died, and so did my father, and I was left to fend for myself, because no one cared!" She was practically shouting. "I don't not believe in stupid things like the gods, I'm too busy surviving."

She crossed her arms and scowled.

"I'm… sorry." He took a step closer.

"Don't be, it's no one's fault." Katrina turned her back on him.

"Are you sure you feel that way?" Martin asked gently.

"I don't need your help, priest." Katrina sneered, walking away. She grabbed a chair and slammed it down, plopping herself on it and looking at a bowl of fruit. She took an apple and began eating it, her hair dripping down her naked back.

Martin sat in the chair across her and watched as she paused at one point, and close her eyes, a pained look on her face.

"What's the matter?"

She opened her eyes and got up. Her bandages were soaking through with blood, and there was a lot. She began to unwrap her bandage as she headed for her bag.

"Here, let me help you…" Martin got up and followed her. He held out his hand as if it was an offer.

She simply pushed his hand away. "I'm fine, just need too…" As the last the bandage cleared, her gash was bleeding through the stiches.

Katrina swore silently and began to clean the wound. "It's nothing bad," She said to him. "It's just bleeding, the wet bandage just made it look a lot." She sighed.

"Are you sure your fine…?" Martin asked, concerned.

Katrina sneered, and looked up. "Yes, I've taken care myself my whole life, why would I need someone now?"

"Or maybe you needed someone… your whole life?" Martin blurted out.

Katrina flinched as if he hit her and then looked away. "I'm… fine."

For the rest of the night, she did not talk.


End file.
